Popular
by Merina Thropp
Summary: Galinda gives Elphaba a makeover - or at least, an attempt at one. A fully written out version of Popular. Before, during, and after. Gelphie friendship.
1. Secrets

_**Dedicated to fellow fanfiction author Throppsicle, who requested this. Happy Christmas, Throppsicle!**_

* * *

><p>"Your very first party? <em>Ever?<em>"

I chewed my lip, considering that a moment. _Parties. _That entitled a few specifics, I was sure – dancing, yes, that was definitely a must. Food and drink, of course, and judging from tonight's experience, a great deal of _drink, _especially where the male attendees were concerned. Hm. I remembered Father collapsing halfway through Mother's funeral from having emptied half the wine cellar in one-sitting earlier that morning – _ugh, what a day that had been – _and hesitated.

"Would funerals count?" I hedged, eyeing Miss Up – Galinda – across the room. She giggled, tossing back half-deflated ringlets. Tiggular had – _cough _– 'accidentally' ruffled them with a little too much enthusiasm whilst giving his new girlfriend a kiss goodnight. I'd tried not to watch. The sounds alone were bad enough. _Ugh. _

"Oh dear, no, I don't think they do," Galinda said, flouncing first one way, then the other on her coverlet as though trying to find the comfiest position without actually lying down and flattening her precious curls any further. Honestly. "But really – to have only just been to your very first party…"

She trailed off, hand gesturing wordlessly – then bounded up and over towards me. I skittered backwards, almost falling off my bed. _Oz. _Obviously, Galinda had less of a respect for personal space than Fiyero did for his girlfriend's dignity. She flopped down right beside me on the coverlet, folds of that ridiculous baby-pink frock settling over my knees whilst a flurry of glitter showered from her head to mine. I coughed.

"Now, I know what we can do!" she chirped. "Let's tell each other something we've never told anyone ever – I'll go first. Fiyero and I…we're going to be _married._"

That stopped me. I was suddenly much too busy trying to remember how to close my mouth. _Married. _She couldn't be serious.

"…He asked you already?" The words came out a question. She beamed.

"Oh no," she trilled. "No, he doesn't know yet."

"Ah."

That explained a lot. Hm. I imagined Tiggular's reaction when his girlfriend informed him they were engaged after spending all of two hours with her, and swallowed laughter. Poor guy. He was in for a surprise.

Galinda was playing with my hands, turning them over and over in her own as though checking for green-free spots. _Good luck with that, dearie_.

"Come on, now you tell me something. A special secret, all of your own."

I stared hard at the floor.

"What sort of _special secret_," I muttered, whilst she pouted.

"Hm." She pretended to think, tipping thumb and finger under her chin and staring at the ceiling a moment.

"…I know!"

She bounced up, swiping something from behind _– oh Oz – _my pillow_._ "You can tell me why you always sleep with this funny little green bottle in your bed -!"

"- _give that back!_" The words burst out of me, frantic, as she swung Mother's vial high in the air with fingers loose and slipping to let it fall, _fall –_ "Give that here, Galinda -!"

"- tell me -!"

"- let me have it -!"

"- first tell -!"

"- it was Mother's!" I blabbered desperately as my fingers caught around the tiny stopper, yanking it from her hands. "It was Mother's, that's all! That's - that's all…"

My words trailed off as I bent over the precious bottle, caressing every inch, every exquisite little contour of glass, just in case, but there wasn't a mark on it, no, not a mark, and my knees buckled with relief, sinking down onto my bed, heart pounding…

…_if she'd broken it…if she'd broken Mother's bottle…_

"Oh." The voice was small. Lonely, in the sudden silence of the room that was broken only by my still-racing heart. "Oh well. If you don't want to be like real roommates."

I glanced up in time to see her flop back down onto her own bed, head hung. Her eyes were wide and resentful as they met mine.

"That's not fair though, you know. I told you a really good one."

I frowned. That was the old Galinda speaking. The one I'd known before everything that had taken place between us at the Ozdust this evening. The pouting, pretending Galinda. The Galinda who loathed me every bit as much as I loathed her. The Galinda I could never have dreamed of seeing a shred of truth, of meaning, of real _something _in, until tonight.

Until the Ozdust…

"My father hates me."

The words stumbled out, tripping over my lips and tumbling between us. I had a sudden, mad desire to get that real Galinda back. The strange, new Galinda I was, impossibly, starting to know in a way I'd never dreamed of knowing anyone in all my life before. Perhaps complying to what she wanted would pull that Galinda out of her shell. Who was I to know? I had nothing to go on. No experience with this.

Still, it seemed to be the right thing to do. She whirled around, ringlets flying, mouth dropping in a perfect round little, "_Oh_."

"That's not the secret," I muttered, rolling my eyes. Oz, wasn't it blatantly obvious? Father had never been exactly careful about keeping his feelings towards me a secret. Not that I cared. Much.

I sighed, shaking the thought off.

"No," I murmured, quieter now, not meeting her gaze. "No, that's not the secret. The secret is that he has good reason."

I stopped then, hesitating. Oz, was I really going to tell her? _Something I'd never told anyone, ever…a special secret…_I almost smiled. This was crazy. Ridiculous, how ready I should feel to let her in on this. Mad.

But then…so was everything, this evening…

"It's my fault."

The words were barely a whisper. Galinda's face was very careful, very cautious as she slowly rose from her bed, and padded across the room to mine again. She settled herself beside me, tucking her knees up this time and resting a gentle hand on mine. Then she waited.

_Tell me. _

The words didn't need to be spoken. They hung in the air between us. Her eyes were patient, open. Expectant. I took a deep breath – and dived in.

"When I was five, and Mother was carrying Nessa, my father began to worry that the new baby might come out, well…green."

Her lips mouthed the word at the same moment mine spoke it. We both smiled. Something passed over me, touched me; a flicker of – togetherness. Almost understanding. A connection. Just like I sometimes felt with Doctor Dillamond. It was nice, strangely comforting.

"He became so frightened, he made Mother chew milkflowers, day and night, only it made Nessa come too soon, with her little legs all…tangled…"

I could see it all again; see the mangled flesh, hear poor Nessa's wailing, mingled with Mother's screams…such terrible, terrible screams…

"…Mother…Mother never woke up."

Silence, for a long moment. I didn't look at Galinda. My eyes watched the firelight mirror tongues of flames in Mother's bottle, green and orange mingled.

"But that was the milkflowers' fault," Galinda's voice piped up, "not yours."

I glanced at her. Her brow was furrowed, creasing lines of make-up, and her eyes lost in thought. _Deep_ thought.

_Well, I suppose there's always a first time…_

Then she smiled, seeming to have reached a conclusion of some sort.

"No. No, that may be your secret, Elphaba, but it doesn't make it true. Ok?"

She squeezed my hand tight, cream skin clashing spectacularly with olive. I shook my head, ducking it away from her. My face felt warm._ Ugh. _No. No, her words were kind, yes, but…_that_ didn't make them true.

"Oh! Oh, oh, oh!"

I jumped, blinking awake from my daze.

"What?"

"It's tomorrow!" Galinda squealed, clutching at my arm with one hand whilst the other gestured wildly to the window. It was true. There were just a few flecks of pink and grey icing the sky beyond the glass; barely visible, but very much there. Oz. We'd been out the whole night. How long had we danced together, down at the Ozdust? It had felt like only minutes, but I must have lost track of time.

Galinda was hopping up off my bed again, a strangely business-like expression on her face now.

"Right, Elphie –"

"- _who_ -?"

"Oh – Elphie!" She laughed, clapping her hands together and spiralling to face me. "Is it all right if I call you Elphie?"

_Um. _

I raised my eyebrows, not really sure whether she was serious or not.

"It's a little perky," I commented, all dry humour and sarcasm, though I should have known it would be completely lost on her_. _

"And you can call me…Galinda!"

She laughed again, a silvered stream of a sound, all wind-chimes.

"You see, Elphie," she went on, business-like again. "Now that we're friends –" that one little word made me do a double-take, but she hurried on – "I've decided to make _you_ my new project!"

Pause, whilst I blinked at her, wondering what in Oz a _project _could entitle and why…why I suddenly wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer…

"You…really don't have to do that…" I mumbled, wary now.

"Oh, I know," she sang, shrugging her little shoulders. Then she beamed. "_That's_ what makes me so nice."


	2. Attire

"_You…really don't have to do that…" I mumbled, wary now. _

"_Oh, I know," she sang, shrugging her little shoulders. Then she beamed. "_That's _what makes me so nice."_

* * *

><p>She threw herself back onto my bed, twisting to make me face her full-on.<p>

"Now, Elphie," she said, taking my hands in hers and surveying me with an unnaturally solemn expression. "You must know – whenever I see someone like you, someone less fortunate than me – well –" She giggled, switching my hands in hers from left to right and then back again – "- I know, who _isn't _less fortunate that me? But still, I can't help but try to help them, you know, make their lives little better, a little more like mine. And if there is one thing youare in need of, Elphie…it's a make-over!"

…oh…

…oh…

…_oh…_

I spluttered something indistinguishable, feet already creeping towards the edge of the bed as it dawned on me what she was going to try and do and _now was most definitely time I made a hasty exit_ –

"- Elphie, don't you try and run away now!"

"But –!"

"- but nothing," she declared, dragging me back to her by the scruff of my dress. "I know it's going to be tough, but don't worry, Elphie. I'm determined to succeed with you. We'll do up your hair –" she caught a few strands between her fingers, flicking them back over my shoulder whilst I flinched away "- find you something proper to wear, try out some make-up –"

"Galinda, please, this is a cause lost before it's even started_ –_"

"Oh Elphie, no," she sighed, jumping up off the bed and hauling me over to the mirror. _Oz-damnit. _I generally avoided mirrors like the plague, not needing a reminder day in, day out of the bane of my existence_._

"Look!" she gushed. "Look at you, Elphie – you've got somuch potential, you just haven't discovered it yet. Oh, I didn't even know you could buydresses as hideotous as that in shops. The Wizard should have them banned, really he should. And those awful glasses."

She whipped said glasses off my nose, tossing them into the wastepaper bin. I started to protest, but she only shook her head.

"Here's what we need to do, Elphie," she whispered conspiratorially, bending up to me on tip-toes. "We need to change their minds, all of those silly, mean students' minds about you. Everyone, even Avaric, needs to see you, _you, _like…well…like I do. We have to make you appeal to them. Make you pretty, and make you popular. Like me."

She beamed, flashing all twenty perfect, even white teeth. I gave her the most sarcastic expression I could muster.

"Are you sure Avaric didn't spike that punch with something?"

She huffed, tossing a tumble of flaxen curls over her shoulder and choosing to ignore me.

"For starters, we're going to try out you out some new social skills."  
>"And what exactly, may I ask, is wrong with my present ones?" I queried, eyes narrowing.<p>

"Well," she sighed, and her fingers darted at my dress again, smoothing out creases and flicking imaginary specks of dust from the material. "Most importantly, you definitely need to learn some basics with boys."

I blanched. "Oz, please no."

"Silly Elphie," she smiled, squeezing my hand. "Boys are _easy._ You just need to get a few essentials down, that's all. Honestly, poor Fiyero didn't know where to put himself when I introduced you two earlier! All you could do was scowlat him, and he was being so gentlemanly and charming with you..."

"Oh, thatwas what he was doing -?"

"_Elphie._" Now she was the one scowling, hands balled into fists on hips. "Really. We'll never get anywhere at this rate. Now, I want to start you out practising on Biq at breakfast – he should be nice and cooperative. I'll teach you some little ways to flirt –"

"_Flirt?!_" I almost screeched.

"- and some do's and don'ts, of course –"

"Galinda, please –"

"- and how to make sure you respect each other's dignity and all that –"

"- says the girl who locked lips with her boyfriend of a mere two hours this evening for a good fifteen minutes flat on the front porch in full view of everyone!" I retorted indignantly, glaring.

"Oh Elphie, _that _sort of kissing is all right," she giggled, and then frowned a little, eyes thoughtful. "Hm. Maybe we should cover kissing too."

I closed my eyes, stomach turning over. "Oz-help me."

"Elphie, it's ok," she insisted. "Really, there's nothing to be so scarified of. I'll help you lots and lots, I promise."

I said nothing, settling for a daggers-glower at the fireplace instead. What a nightmare. Not that I was frightenedor anything at the prospect – Oz-damnit, if there was anyone who should be afraid, it was _Boq_ – but the boys of Shiz were just so…so…immature. Boisterous, idiotic show-offs. And no respect, of course, for anyone who had come to Shiz to actuallystudy. Rude, juvenile oafs. Ugh. And Tiggular worst of all – I remembered him slathering all over Galinda at the Ozdust bar, hands everywhere they shouldn't be_, _and quickly stamped the thought away, shuddering.

"Elphie? Elphie, are you listening? I said, let's move on to legwear and shoes_._"

I darted a glance down at her current pair. _Oh Oz. _Encrusted with lurid pink glitter and spiky-heeled, my worst nightmare come true. Granted, they brought a certain elegance to her slim little feet, but if she thought I was going to try on anything likethose horrors, she had another thing coming.

Galinda was over at the wardrobe, hands delving through its dusty interior. She pulled a small drawer open with a _creak, _diving a hand inside. It took several seconds for me to realise it was my underwear drawer.

"_Galinda –!_" I hissed in horror, catapulting towards her.

"Oh Elphie_, _just look at these," she moaned forlornly, drawing out my one and only pair of stockings – grey – before I could slam the drawer shut under her fingers. _One step too far, dearie. _"I swear by Oz, even Popsiclewould never sink so low as to wear these…these…these _travesteries_…"

I sighed."In English, please, Galinda."

"You know what I mean," she sniffed, examining the garments gingerly between thumb and forefinger. "Well, that's something to start a shopping list with, at least."

She tossed the stockings into the wastepaper bin, on top of my glasses. Cursed Oz, she was throwing away half my wardrobe.

"Ok – let's deal with shoes, now. Oh, oh, I know!"

"What?" I muttered, warily.

"Those lovely sparkly slippers your sister has! How about you ask her if you can borrow them?"

"No," I cut her off, frowning. "No, they're Nessa's, Father's start of term gift to her. Besides, I'd never in a million years actually wear them…"

My voice trailed off, heart thumping as I suddenly realised…that wasn't quite the truth. The shoes were ridiculous, of course – impractical, flashy, extravagant…unique…glimmering, mysterious, magical, ethereal, _entrancing_…

…cursed Oz…how I wished I could push them aside, forget them as easily as every other present Father had ever showered Nessa with, but I couldn't. Pretty things were not for me, had never been for me, but those shoes…those shoes simply would not leave me alone…

Galinda was watching me with a confused expression creasing her perfect features. "Well, I'm sure Nessarose wouldn't mind –"

"Father would."

It was a flimsy excuse, but true, in essence. Galinda hesitated.

"Well, it's not like he ever has to know," she mumbled, but dropped it at the look on my face.

She did still try and make me wear a pair of her high-heels. I refused point-blank, of course, for fear of falling and breaking my neck, though I did allow her to – "At the very least!" – polish my boots till I could practically see my face in them.

"That's better," she smiled, when we'd tidied away the black polish and were washing our hands at the bathroom sink together – or rather, Galinda was washing, lathering soap between my fingers, over my palms, under my clipped fingernails, as though she doubted my sense of hygiene as much as my fashion. I wasn't sure whether to be amused or insulted.

"And let's try and fix your hair next," she chirped, drying first her hands, then mine, rubbing unnecessarily hard as though still hopeful she could make a difference to the colour. Wishful thinking.

Following that, she towed us back to her bed, pushing me down on the coverlet; it was even worse to look at it up close, I noted, with a shiver. Lacy and frilly and flowery and so silky I kept sliding off it and having to hitch myself back up again. Oz, what an uncomfortable place to read. Not that she did much, but still.

"Right." Galinda's voice came from behind me, and I could hear something oddly like excitement in her voice, now. She caught hold of my plait, jerking my head back and tearing out the hair band.

"Stay still now, Elphie, ok?"

_Really. _How did her other friends stand it?

"Oh Elphie, do stop fidgeting. You've got such _pretty _hair, you really must wear it down more often. It's such a waste, having it all tight back in that nasty plait." She sighed wistfully. "It's so lovely and soft and silky. I've wanted to have a play with it for so long, you know. From now on, you wear it down,ok, Elphie? Oh – except for sports, of course. Now, that's something we should cover. And other extra activities, just in case."

She hopped off the bed. I stood up and my hair swung forward, sweeping over my shoulders. I raked it back. Such a bother, having it down, always in the way. Perhaps I should think about just hacking off the whole lot. I thought about Galinda's reaction to that – and almost smiled.

"Right," Galinda was moving on already. "Let's do…language,now. Slang you've got to know, and all that."

I choked back laughter. "_Language_?Really, Galinda? You, teach me language? What – _hideoteous _and _gratitution _and _confusifying_…?"

Her eyes narrowed, failing to make her appear any more threatening than an angry Kitten – that did it, for me. I burst right out laughing, though I didn't want to. Didn't, for the first time, want to frighten her with my ghastly laughter. But also, for the first time, I couldn't seem to help myself.

Galinda didn't seem to even notice. Scowling, she tugged me to her desk, folding my fingers around a fluffy lilac quill and a rose-scented, petal-patterned pad of paper. I wrinkled my nose, laughter fading. Whatever happened to lovely old odourless, plain white paper?

"There – you can take notes," she muttered grudgingly, not looking at me. "Just like always love doing so much in class."

I sighed.

"Whatever you say, Galinda."

That made her smile. She grabbed a pad of her own and tugged me back to her bed, settling down beside me this time. Her fingers flicked at my hair, rearranging a few strands unnecessarily. Then she sighed – why, I had no idea. Her touch moved to my shoulders instead, settling an arm around me. I shifted in my seat, resisting the urge to shrug her off.

"Ok," Galinda was saying, grinning again. "Ok, now, we'll start with _swankified…_what do you suppose that means, Elphie?"


	3. Making Up

We spent only ten minutes on _language._

"I suppose you could be worse," Galinda sighed, leaning over the notes I'd spread across my lap and correcting with her own quill. "You've still got a long way to go, though, an awfullylong way," she concluded, pulling back and folding up her own paper. I sighed.

"Just because I haven't spent eighteen years perfecting unnecessary social skills does not mean I have been wasting my time –"

"- oh Elphie, no, you mustn't think I'm being mean about this," she chided, patting my knee and making me squirm away. "I'm just being, well, _frank _with you, you know? Momsie always said that really is the only way to improve things. It'll be worth it once we're through. You'll be _so_ much better at everything. Not a bit like you were – well, are."

"Oh, well, thank Oz for that," I muttered, sensing a return of old-Galinda. She only laughed, setting the quills and pads back on her desk.

"Really, Elphie. There's nothing to stop you, not when you've got _me_."

She skipped over to her wardrobe now, humming a tune from the Ozdust as she went. I tucked my knees up on her bed and settled my head on them, bracing myself for what might be coming. _Please Oz, let it not be make-up…_

"…oh no, Galinda!" I burst out, unable to stop myself as she wheeled around with arms full of tell-tale bottles, tubes, and brushes. "It's not worth it – for Oz's sake, look at me! No amount of make-up's going to change _this –_"

"Shh, Elphie," she soothed, advancing on me with the flattest of bottles, a monster of a brush brandished in one hand. "I'll be very quick, I promise – oh _no_, don't you try and run away again -!"

I had made a dash for the door, grabbing at the handle with both hands. Maybe I'd hide out in the library for the night. Galinda made a sound like an angry Lion cub, dropping all her weapons with a clatter and throwing herself at me.

"_Galinda, _quit that, let me go -!"

"- you let the door go!" she squealed, and I did, slapping her hands away. She threw me back onto the bed; I collapsed with a flump, arms flailing. _Oz-damnit. _

"Galinda –"

"Not one more word from you, Miss Thropp. This is serious_, _now."

She unscrewed something long and scarlet in her free hand.

"Whenever I make someone over, Elphie," she said, pressing the cool tip of the lipstick against my mouth. "I always make sure to remind them how _most _of today's high society people got where they are now –"

"- brains," I tried to say, and then spluttered, as lipstick jabbed my tongue. "_– _and – and knowledge –"

"No, no, Elphie," she smiled, shaking her head. "That's just it. _Popularity _is what it's all about, these days. The way you're viewed, the way people see you. It's the outside that absotively matters most."

"Hence why you are currently shoving a sour, solidified stick of red dye into my mouth."

She smothered giggles, reaching to muss my hair affectionately. I ducked.

"It's called _lipstick, _Elphie, and it's not red, it's _Slickly Seductive Rosehip_…"

"Tastes as bad as it sounds."

"You're not supposed to eat it, silly," she giggled. "Here – copy me."

She stretched her lips in a ridiculous, taut sort of way. I tried to copy. The lipstick glided back and forth, coating my lips in its wet, sticky substance. Ugh,how revolting.

"That's better," Galinda smiled, pulling back and whipping something black out of a pot this time. I touched my lower lip with one finger and examined it suspiciously. Who in Oz had been deranged enough to spend their life developing a product like this? What a waste of time.

"Now, Elphie, we need to do mascara."

"Mask-ah-what?"

She sighed, sinking down onto the bed beside me this time and reaching to cup my chin – I darted sideways, but she caught hold and clung on.

"It's called _mascara, _Elphie,and I refuse to believe you have never heard of it. Even Fiyero would know what mascara was."

_Hm. _"Low blow, Galinda."

She frowned, obviously trying to work out whether I'd insulted her boyfriend or not – seemed to decide that I hadn't – then flourished a bristled black spidery-thing at me instead. _What in Oz? _Before I could ask, she dived forward, catching my eyelashes. I blinked frantically, jerking away.

"_Elphie._" She yanked me back. "You must stay still!"  
>On dolloped the black liquid, making my lashes clumpy and uncomfortable. Galinda sighed in satisfaction.<p>

"There. That's better."

She whipped out a pencil then, and drew all around my eyelids, till I was certain I must look like a Panda. Eye-shadow came next – which wasn't in fact _shadowy _at all, but came in all different sickly pastels – followed by blusher. Foundation was, thank Oz, impossible.

"You dohave awful cheekbones," Galinda murmured, as she applied the finishing touches to my lashes with a chunk of metal that looked like some sort of torture tool. "All pointed out andbony_._ But you dohave a nice long neck, except it's so thin. Just like your chin. Oh dear. You do seem very _pointy, _don't you?"

It was probably the closest thing to a compliment I'd ever received, and I said as much. She laughed.

"Everyonewill be complimenting you from now on, Elphie. I'll make sure of it."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm sure Avaric will be just spellbound_._"

"He should be." She dragged something damp through my eyebrows, shaping them. "Now, just let me finish these up for you…there we go. All done. Up you get, Elphie!"

She took me by the shoulders, pushing the make-up to one side and pulling me up. Her eyes were alight with some new idea.

"Now, I'll show you how to toss your hair!"


	4. Hope

"Watch me, first."

She pushed me down into her desk chair, then stepped back, flipping sunshine locks back over her shoulders.

"Toss -!"

- she twisted her head to the right, curls spilling out towards me –

"- toss -!"

- she twisted back to the left, swinging her hair back. I applauded. She giggled, pretending to curtsy.

"Now, you try!"

_Oh great. _I bit my lip. My hair was all wrong for this, I knew. It wouldn't bounce like hers did. It was limp, and stubbornly straight. Still, if she wanted me to try…

I took a deep breath – then threw my head from side to side in as best an imitation of Galinda as I could, hair spiralling in a mad halo around me, blurring my vision – I lost my balance and toppled clean off the bed with a _crack._

"Oh _Elphie -!_"

"- I'm fine, I'm fine!" I snapped, scrambling up and ducking my head so she wouldn't see me flush. _Oz-damnit. _I felt one of her hands at my cheek, pushing back curtains of hair whilst the other dusted off my dress.

"Galinda, it's all right," I muttered, flinching away. "I'll practise, all right?"

"Yes – yes, that's it," she chirped enthusiastically "Practise, that's all you need. But now, let's try something different. How about party clothes?" She flicked a finger at my dress, nose wrinkling. "You can't expect me to let you wander around in that awful thing next time we go to the Ozdust."

_Next time? _

"Come on," she said, taking my shoulders and thrusting me into the centre of the room. One hand swiped her brand new training wand from the mantelpiece – _uh-oh. _I opened my mouth to protest.

"Um, Galinda –"

"Shh, Elphie," she tutted, raising the wand above her head, "I need to concentrate, Now…_ballgown._"

I almost laughed – almost – as she flicked the wand towards me. At that particular moment, however, I was more concerned with my right-eye being poked clean out that correcting her attempt at spelling.

"- watch it, Galinda -!"

She wasn't listening.

"What did I do wrong?" she muttered to herself, turning the wooden instrument over and over in her hands. "Maybe it's not turned on." She tapped the tip tentatively with one finger, peering at it. "Ok, let's try again – _ballgown!_"

She shouted the word this time, jabbing the point of the wand at me whilst I ducked and threw up my hands instinctively. _Oz. _

Nothing happened, of course.

"Do you want me to try -?" I suggested, swallowing laughter and offering out a hand instead.

"Oh no, Elphie, it's ok," she insisted, cheeks faintly pink as she chucked the wand over her shoulder. Then she turned away so I couldn't see her face. "Just wear the frock," she muttered. "It's pretty."

"It is. You should try it, sometime."

That made her laugh – she turned to shove me playfully.

"We must do a _clothes-swap, _sometime! Oh_, _it would be so much fun, and you could wear this!"

She gestured to her dress – the explosion of bubble-gum pink frills Fiyero's hands had been investigating all evening – whilst my eyes narrowed.

"And you'll prance around in my boots and _hideotous _glasses, I presume?"

She giggled, clasping our hands together and swinging them.

"Well – only if you wear my heels. Oh, and let me curl your hair!"

I raised my eyebrows, sceptical now. "You'll wear my uniform? My cap?"

"Oh sweet Oz." Her hands clapped over her mouth, eyes wide. "That…that disgustifying fishnet thing?"

"The very same." I grinned, whilst she hesitated, pressing a hand on top of her head as though imagining the horror.

"I couldn't," she barely whispered, hands clasping to her mouth. "I couldn't,Elphie! Oh dear. Well. We won't have to decide right now, do we?"

"I suppose not."

"Good," she said, and then stepped towards me, "ok, one more thing for you, then." She smiled. "Just one, I promise."

She reached for my hand again, interlocking our fingers. I tried not to shy away from the gesture this time; to try and treat the touch as normal, as natural, as something to be welcomed.

"Sit back down," she murmured, pulling me to her bed. I followed obediently, perching on the edge of the coverlet and gazing up at her.

"Galinda?"

She didn't answer – just reached up with both hands, folding her fingers around the petals of the pink flower nestled in her hair.

"Finishing touch," she murmured, eyes bright with something I couldn't name. The flower slid from her curls.

"Don't move – please?"

"I won't."

Her fingertips trailed my hair, sweeping a little handful back from my face. Her hands were so gentle, so careful, as they slid the flower snugly into place with the quietest of clicks_. _From above me came a stifled squeal. I glanced up.

"Something wrong?"

Galinda had both hands clapped to her mouth, her face shining.

"Pink goes good with green!" she breathed. _Hm. _I reached my hand up to examine the flower. It felt uncomfortable against my head, the petals rough and entirely fake. Of course.

"Don't touch. Please. You might knock something. Oh, Miss Elphaba."

I shuffled my feet, not looking at her.

"What?" I muttered.

She didn't reply – merely laid something cool and smooth in my lap, folding my fingers around it. _Sigh. _I knew what it was without looking. Another mirror.

"Look at you, Miss Elphaba," Galinda smiled up at me from the glass, her reflection every bit as perfect as reality.

"You're beautiful," she said, simply.

Neither of us spoke a word.

I stared at myself. The reflection was, accurately, hideous – Galinda had moved out of the frame to rearrange my hair again and it was just me. Just her. Just the girl in the mirror I could never get away from and never would, no, not if I lived a hundred years, a thousand, a million…

…she would still be green.

I peered closely, all the same. Elphaba-in-the-mirror was scowling. The picture of scepticism. But as I watched…something changed. The eyebrows raised a centimetre. The mouth turned up, a touch. The eyes relaxed; changed; widened…widened in disbelief, in wonder…

I stared at myself, gawked and jaw-dropped unattractively. There was something…something impossible. Something in her words…the way had talked to me, told me…

…_beautiful, _she had said. _Beautiful, Elphie._

My heart sputtered. Skipped a beat. Stopped.

_I could almost…almost…_

…could I really…

…_see it…?_

"You see, Elphie."

_I…I don't know…_

"Don't you see?"

_I…I…_

"You're beautiful," Galinda murmured, and her arms enfolded me in a sideways hug. "Beautifully beautiful."

Something huge seemed to be building inside me. Something indescribable. Something wonderful, some pure and free, a waterfall, a blanket, settling over me…relief…hope…_joy_…

…oh sweet _Oz, _I could almost believe it, almost believe she was _right…_

…_beautiful, but…_

…but…

…but then the girl in the mirror shimmered; shifted; and Galinda's face was there again, ducked beside mine as we peered side by side at each other's reflections, and…and…

…and no.

No.

My racing heart skittered. Slammed to a halt, shuddered in my ribcage. Shattered. Crashed.

_Back to earth, Elphaba. Back to Oz._

No.

Next to her, next to Beauty, Exquisiteness, Perfection…the girl in the mirror was a joke. A farce. A clown, done up in droopy make-up. Slapstick comedy. Her hair limp, greasy. Her lips bloody, smudged on one side. Her eyes dull, colourless. And her skin, her _skin – _that foul, sallow shade of dead moss, of slime, of mould, of crusty pond scum, of sickening, _sickening _green…

…Hideous. Shewas _hideous_.

How could I ever have thought otherwise?

I could accept it, I could, I always _had – _accepted thatI was a mistake. A roaring freak show. An _abomination_, I could almost hear Father choking, sobbing over Mother's grave, the grave that should have been mine, the grave that was all my fault_…_

_Hideous…sickening…monster…_

My feet flailed for the ground, stumbled me up from the bed. Galinda's hands slipped away, lost behind.

"Elphie -?"

"I-I have to go," my voice choked. "I-I have to – _have _to go –"

"But Elphie –!"

I didn't hear any more. I was across the room and out the door before she could speak another word, the bolts sizzling back into place behind me, though I had spoken no magic to release them – then running, running, running down the corridor and down the stairs and down and down and down…

…inside, I mocked myself. _Fool. Oz-damned fool. _Caught up in it all. Caught up in her smiles, her sweet words, her encouragement, her optimism, her hope…

…_for that single second, oh, how I had hoped…_

At least that idiocy, that pretence, that _madness _was all gone now. I was safe_. _Grounded. Pulled firmly down from impossible dreams, from fleeting fantasy; secure once more in reality.

_Beautiful._

The word watered tears, stinging and salty in my eyes. _No. _No, I knew my place now, had known it for years, known it…accepted it. Contented myself with what was common sense, common knowledge. Grown accustomed to bearing…bearing it. Galinda had merely cracked that shell, that protective case. Indulged me with silly fantasies, with hope. Sent a few walls crashing down with spectacular, terrifying ease.

But it was all right. It was all right now, because I knew; I was prepared. Safe, in my old knowledge.

_A lost cause. A failure. A hopeless case._

But prepared. Prepared, from now on.

I would never let her try to make me popular again


End file.
